


Pretty Boys

by listlessinvitation



Category: Bandom, Metallica, Thrash Metal - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 13:20:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21392824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/listlessinvitation/pseuds/listlessinvitation
Summary: The band's first show on the big stage went pretty well, I'd say.
Relationships: Cliff Burton/Kirk Hammett, James Hetfield/Lars Ulrich
Comments: 11
Kudos: 25





	Pretty Boys

James and Lars were a thing, yeah. I mean, anyone who looked at them could tell if they were really looking. The subtle glances, how close they stood to each other, the way they pestered one another. Friends are close, but not that close. Lars could easily be mistaken for a woman from the back, and sometimes even from the front. That was James' preference, y'know? Feminine guys. He didn't like chicks, didn't like buff guys, he liked right down the middle. A cute, short, fussy little Dane was perfect for him. It was Cliff's preference too, judging by how close he was to Kirk.

Tonight was their first set, as a group, on a real stage. Not a pussyfoot, back alley gig. Not a sleazy little bar. No, this was a big gig. A REAL gig. Cliff was the least nervous of them all, comforting a on-the-verge-of-puking Kirk in their changing room. James and Lars were sitting across from each other on the floor, passing a beer back and forth hoping to calm their nerves. James was the first to stand up when the stage hand came in to tell them they were next, but feeling Lars' hand tugging on his pant leg, he reached his hand down for the smaller to take it and pull him up as well. Kirk managed to hold his lunch down as they went onstage, and played the gig.

Kirk ran to the bathroom and threw up as soon as the gig was over, Cliff sauntering behind him and snagging a beer from the mini fridge to help the poor thing. James grabbed two beers, one for himself and one for Lars. He sat down and got comfortable while waiting for him to quit fucking around outside of the door. When he came in, James held the beer up before his eyes could wander any further. "C'mon, ya dip." He coaxed, and Lars obeyed, walking over to sit beside him. They drank quietly, hearing Kirk vomiting from the other room as well as the crowd hollering for the next band. 

James' eyes danced over the figure beside him, taking in his tape covered fingers and how they held so firmly to the bottle; the way his lips wrapped around the rim to take a drink. He had to clear his throat and look away, suddenly feeling very hot and bothered. It had to be the adrenaline from the gig. That was all. Sure, they'd messed around before, but for Christ's sake! Lars was already falling asleep with his head against James' shoulder, tuckered out after exerting all his energy, stress and nervousness into his drumming. Though, before he knew it, his hand found its way to his thigh, massaging his finger tips just beneath his boxer line. It earned a soft gasp, and sleepy moan. "Shhh," James purred low in his ear, "you don't want Cliff or Kirk to hear do you?" Lars fussed, but went quiet when he felt the hand move further, now cupping his growing erection.

Really, there wasn't too much to hold, but James rubbed his thumb over his slit nice and slow, kissing gingerly at his jaw once Lars had rolled his head to the other side, exposing the half of his neck closest to James. He began to stroke him carefully, not wanting to tug the boxers against his skin to make it uncomfortable, but also making sure to constrict him to only his boxers. Where was the fun in letting him have it all out? Someone could see what belonged to James. That was a biiiig no-no. It was his for a reason; he did NOT share. Eventually—as in about five minutes—Lars had enough of it. He was begging and whining to be touched, pleading with him desperately. James gave in as he got louder, pushing his shorts down and yanking him into his lap. 

“Shut your trap, Christ.” He muttered as he slid his hard member out of his trousers, kissing at Lars’ neck and leaving a faint mark. Hands moved up his sides, rubbing over his flushed skin as Lars reached down to slick himself with his saliva, then guiding James’ member into him. He let out a low groan, hiding his face in his neck to nibble right below his jaw. Soft whimpers were muffled by a mane of hair and skin, hips bucked greedily up into the hand still on his cock, and James murmured low in his ear to remind him of what they’d done a few nights ago. It drew out yet another noise, and James took great pleasure in stroking the smaller cock faster as his free hand moved up his stomach to tease one of his nipples.

Lars could feel how tense James was beneath him, beginning to put all of his effort into riding him. Sure, he was incredibly tired, and his body already ached, but he wanted to make his boyfriend feel good. God, it felt good for him just to think of James as his boyfriend, but taking him on? Having his hands all over his body? His eyes rolled into the back of his head as pleasure overtook him, back melting into James’ chest as the blond began to thrust roughly up into him. The sound of the thrusts was only muffled by James’ trousers and boxers, which clung to his sweaty skin, and even stuck to Lars skin a bit. 

“Åh fuck, mere!” Lars caved in, crying out loud enough that Cliff and Kirk more than certainly could have heard it even from the bathroom. Hell, anyone backstage or in the hall could’ve heard it. James stood up, gripping Lars’ thighs firmly, and pressed him roughly against the wall. Tugging his pants down further and pulling out to adjust Lars’ position—now facing him—he angled his hips just enough to directly thrust into the other’s prostate. He didn’t complain as Lars’ hands flew to his back, digging his blunt nails into his skin and tearing up his back. 

“Jesus Ulrich, you didn’t last this long last time.” He teased, lips against his throat, hands groping at his thighs as his thrusts became more erratic. Within a few more minutes, Lars came over James’ stomach. He pulled out and let Lars sink to his knees to lick it up, stroking himself just to cum over the Dane’s face once he’d finished cleaning his mess. He snickered, watching Lars feverishly get what he could on his tongue, using his finger to wipe up anything else and suck it off. With a kiss to James’ tip, he stood up slowly, legs shaking and knees struggling not to buckle. 

“I’m gonna have to take a shower when we get back to the hotel.” He griped, giving James a dirty look as he slid on his boxers and the blond tucked himself away.

“Oh, like that’s such a big deal. We can just shower together.” Came the hummed reply, a grin from ear to ear on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Requests are always open.


End file.
